


The Second Brother

by Lazy_Queen



Series: The Doctor's Family [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Merlin (TV), Sherlock (TV), Torchwood
Genre: AO3 1 Million, Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M, Genderbending, Harry and John are twins, Humor, M/M, Romance, timey-wimey stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-24
Packaged: 2018-01-13 00:10:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1205617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazy_Queen/pseuds/Lazy_Queen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock Holmes was a precocious child, even for the standards of Time Lord children. He could also be called cute, but not in front of him.</p><p>Part 2 is up!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The early years of Sherlock Holmes

**Author's Note:**

> Let's see if I can make better chapters, hm?

When Sherlock Sirius Holmes was born (" _that's it, I'm not letting you name them anymore. Not even a rabbit. Harry Potter hasn't even been published yet!_ ") it was raining. But not  _any_ kind of rain. It was like someone up there was squeezing the clouds for every bit of water they had.

Mycroft had already been waiting for almost a week, when he finaly saw the telltale signs of his brother's arival. But the Doctor still had his head on the clouds - or in his case, some galaxy - and didn't notice the first time River tried to get his attention, after having decided the rain wouldn't abate any time soon and the time between contractions was getting shorter.

"Love." her commanding tone finaly caught her husbands wandering attention "I said, go get the car. I already asked Mycroft to get the bag. We're going to the hospital."

"Why?" said the Doctor, recieving a fond but exasperated look from his wife.

" **Why** he asks." Sensing Mycroft's coming back, she raised herself with certain difficulty from the armchair.  _God, was she big_. "I'm having contractions. Sherlock is coming."

"You're sure-of course you are. Right." and with that he went in the went to the direction of the TARDIS.

"I said the car!" River called out.

"RIGHT!" he said, and turned 180°.

* * *

Having learned from the last time that he would faint from the sight of all the birth's blood, the Doctor and Mycroft waited outside the hospital's room, sitting in the unconfortable plastic chairs. Well, Mycroft was. The Doctor frequentely got up to walk up and down the corridor, in a vain effort to dissipate his nervous energy.

Some time later - that looked more like an age to those two - the room's door opened, and a nurse came out to usher them in.

"The birth went perfectly well. She's just a bit tired. But your wife and son are fine." she said.

Mycroft had to bite out a rude  _"of course they're fine, it's all over your face, if they weren't you wouldn't be beaming like this, would you?"_ and quickly follow his father inside. River was propped up by pillows on the bed and had a bump of a bubling thing on her hands. A smile broke out the Doctor's face.

"Oh, aren't you something else!" breathed him and gave a chaste kiss on his wife's lips.

"What's he saying Father?" Mycroft asked, observing his Father's interaction with the newborn.

"Well, he's asking why he had to get out and who are we and-" he got a bit red there and handed his son back to River "he's hungry." explained the Doctor before averting his eyes.

"Oh, it's adorable how naïve you're still are." moked River while propping Sherlock higher to help him get a better grip on her breast.

"Oh, shut up!" he said embarrassed and cleaned his throat, before sitting in a chair near the bed, pulling Mycroft to his side and start answering Sherlock's earlier questions. In the middle of his monologue, Mycroft got up and went to the baby's side. Without a word, River changed positions a bit, so now he could see his brother's face better.

Still a baby's face, but he could already point out that his pale skin tone and dark hair colours came from their father, while he got soft curls that, like him, came from their mother.

Just when he finished that thought, Sherlock opened his eyes. Gray-green-blue eyes stared into his before falling shut again, and a rush of fraternal love washed over him.

 _Oh_. It was all he could think.

* * *

Sherlock Holmes was a precocious child, ever for the standards of Time Lord children. He could also be called cute, but not in front of him. In many ways he advanced like his older brother: start talking when he was seven month's old, walk around the nine month, read and speak at three...

The difference was that he didn't just walk- he ran. And his first book wasn't the 'Full Biography of Winston Churchill, with Time Lords Notes!' like Mycroft, but one of Marie Curie. Right there their preferences could already be found.

He also was slim and didn't particularly care about eating, often finding it nothing more than fuel for his body. The famous Doctor's curiosity - that so easily put him in dangerous/suicidal situations - was strong in his personality and while Mycroft never got more than a scratch from outside activities, Sherlock usually got back with a broken bone or a twisted ankle.

But his first contact with cientific experiments - if you could call it so - happened because of the Doctor's bad measurement of the amount of flour needed to bake one of his baked goods.

Sherlock was just going to the library to get another book - this time about Descartes - when he heard a loud BOOOM! that made him - and his mother he later noticed - investigate it's origins.

Father had flour all over his face and apron and the interior of the oven was all black. When Mummy put down the oven's door, they could see that it's earliers contents were completely carbonizated.

"What happened?" little Sherlock asked, being one of those situations someone did something so ridiculous that it became impossible to just know from observation alone.

"Well," Father ran a gloved hand on his dirty hair before noticing it was still gloved and taking it off, returning the motion "I used a bit too much of flour it seems, and it reacted to the heat inside the oven and other things. This hasn't happened since I learned how to cook back in my teens." he smiled, nostalgic.

"But why exactly?" Sherlock persisted, still not understanding how could something as dull as flour do such a cool thing like explode.

River sighed.

"Just- go clean yourseolf and explain a bit o chemistry to Sherlock will you?" she kissed his dirty cheek and went to get something to clean his mess.

"Alright then!" the Doctor claped his hands, making a cloud of flour that had them sneezing in no time "Bath it is. Just wait for me in the library, will you, Lock?"

Sherlock nodded and went, giving his father the time to clean up.

* * *

Sherlock loved his Mummy, he really did. It was just that, during most of his childhood, Father ended up being the one who understood him, down to the endless curiosity that found him most of his days locked in his rooms running experiments to the time he found his beloved violin walking down the streets and just _had_ to have him.

In some ways, the violin was his TARDIS. Sherlock didn't even take classes, he just spend days trying it out and learning how to play all on his own. And that was were Mummy started playing a bigger role in his life.

She was the one that sat near by to hear him play, always with a soft smile on her face, and the one to see how the other kids just weren't enough for him, would never be because he just  _wasn't_   _like them_. She also understood quickly how Mycroft leaving to Eton shocked him, because during so long it had been them against the world.

Later, when he was six, he observed how Mummy started taking care walking down the stairs, when weird food started appearing on their fridge, and a hand would sneak it's way to her stomach.

One evening, he sat down next to her and leaned his head on her side. She was reading, something from Luna University's curriculum, and was absentmindly running her fingers through his curls, unfastening the knots.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" he asked in a low tone, not looking at her. As it was, he only felt her fingers momentaly freeze in surprise before starting the motion again, and not how a big smile graced her features.

"Girl." she said softly.

"Good." Sherlock said, nuzzling her side before standing up "I don't think the world needs another me or Mycroft. Hopefully our sister will be good like Father."

"Yes." River agreed, and when he left, went back to her book, amazed how similar her two sons could be.

But while at this age Mycroft already started showing his ambitions of world domination and never grown out of it, Sherlock still planed on being a pirate.

 _Well_ , she thought to herself, _this one will have her own brand of problems too._

And she was right.


	2. What means to be a Watson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm late, I know... it's just... the muse, you know? She doesn't call anymore...

The Watson family has always taken pride on being 'normal'. Teachers, lawyers, housekeepers. Common jobs with a medium salary, and always something that permited them to take care of others, a common trait present in every member of the clan.

Of course, sometimes black sheeps are born. Like John Hamish Watson the first, who became an army doctor in the 21st century, or Edward Vicent Watson, who became a pilot for her Majesty's English Army durig World War 4.

In the 51st century, Henry George Watson, proud neurologist and this century's only black sheep so far, could admit of being dissapointed when his only son, George Hamish Watson choose to be a simple pediatrician. George than found Mary Jones, and in their first married year the twins were born: John Hamish Watson and Harriet Joanna Watson.

Henry absolutely loved his gradchildren. He knew they were different, even more than him, always playing Doctor Vs Cyberman, and being the only ones who took interest in his weird hobby of always go hiking on Saturdays. So when Harriet ended up getting interested only in girls, Henry wasn't as surprised as the rest of the family. He also wasn't surprised when, in their 18th birthday, John and Harriet ran away leaving only a note to warn that they were joining the Time Agency.

After, he understood that it was John that shocked them so much. He had always stood on his sister's shadow even though he was the one that always had shone brighter.

 

* * *

 

The Time Agency was _fun_. Learning how to fight aliens, how to talk to them, fire a gun, use a Vortex Manipulator... God,  _own_ a Vortex Manipulator! It was all Harriet - now going as Harry - could have ever dreamed of. But she knew John wasn't as happy. They  _were_ partners. Knew each other better than anyone,  _understood_ each other better than anyone. She was worried. And then the JOB - capital letters - came.

One day, agent M appeared on their doorstep and asked to speak to John privatly. M was a legend in the Government, and a legend between the agents, so of course John agreed. Then for almost a whole month Harry didn't see John and when he came back, she felt - as only a twin could - that something was different about him, but he just said _"Sorry Harry"_ and _"I can't"_ and _"It's confidential"_.

And then he said they had a mission.

Together, they went back to 1997 and joined the English army. Years later, John became an army doctor and Harriet an army nurse. Finally, they were shipped to Afeganistan where their real job was: help stop the war.

Harriet saw John glow during those years. When she helped him save their first wounded soldier, she realized he wouldn't be as happy anywhere else, and started loathing the day they'd have to go back.

And then, the Weeping Angels happened.

* * *

 _Weeping Angels_ , John had thought back in the during the Time Agent course,  _one of the worst aliens ever._

Now he just thought,  _WHY THE FUCK ARE THEY HERE?!_

They were on a crossfire  when they came. John had been trying to be useful in the battlefield when he saw them on the corner of his eye and freezed. He had two options: go get Harriet and fight the Weeping Angels while trying not to get shot and risk their jobs and mission because they _would_ have to answer their superiors - both of them - later, or get to Jason that was bleeding on the ground and try to save his life, while hoping not to get shot or touched by the damn aliens.

"WATSON!" he heard Murray's scream and his decision was made for him.

"Harry!" he callef and saw Harriet coming from the right "Go take care of the Angels, I'll meet you in a minute!"

He saw her eyes widen in recognition and then her nodding and turn to run. And then stop.

John sensed something was wrong and stopped mid-run.

His blood ran cold and in his ears it got louder as he saw his partner, sister, _twin_ , get face to face to a fucking. Weeping. Angel.

" _Fuck!_ "

There was no time to save any bleeding soldier, no time to think of the consequeces, only HarrietHarrietHarriet.

Hastily, he took his Vortex Manipulator out of his front pocket and chose to appear on the same place two days in the future and ran to her. She was white as a sheet, and grabbing her hand they started teletransportating at the same time as two shots cut the weird bubble of silence they found themselfs in, and they were hit, one shot on her leg and one shot on his left shoulder. The pain made them blink in unnison and in that split second, the Angel touched the Vortex.

And then all went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... what do you think?? *-*


End file.
